


Bread Makes You Fat?

by goodmanperfectsoldier



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame Fix-It, Chubby Kink, Everyone Is Alive, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Weight Gain, Weight Issues, chubby steve, spoilers in chapter two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-01-10 19:10:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18414092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodmanperfectsoldier/pseuds/goodmanperfectsoldier
Summary: Steve Rogers doesn't give up, just as, like, a rule.So in a world once again without Bucky Barnes, he finds another way to cope.(It's a good thing Bucky doesn't really mind, when he shows up again.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _This is a gift-fic! You know who you are :) Thank you for your friendship!! I hope you enjoy this._

Steve really doesn’t mean to get fat. It’s just, well, you see. You run out of a lot of food options when half the population of the universe is gone in the blink of an eye. No more protein bars in the apocalypse.

You also run out of a lot of your will to live, to be honest. 

But, you know. Steve doesn’t give up, just as, like, a rule. 

So instead, he eats. A lot. Whatever he can get his hands on, really. And he gets fat. Because that’s what depression (and a whole loaf of garlic bread every day, if he can manage it) will do to you. 

***

They spend two years making plans and getting things together to engage with Thanos once more. In the end, Steve is glad that they’ll all need new suits in order to carry out the plan; his old one is definitely too small even to be altered to fit his newest body. The new suit is sort of ugly, in Steve’s honest opinion, but it fits snug and comfortable around his round belly, his wide chest, his thick thighs and upper arms.

And when it comes to the fight, Steve finds himself appreciating the added bulk. It’s not like he wasn’t still training in the time that’s passed. In fact, he has more moves than ever, having learned how to throw his new weight around correctly. He’s got, if anything, a surplus of muscle now, too. And the additional layer of natural cushioning seems to keep him safer, protecting him from blows he used to feel acutely.

Which is good because this is one more fight that Steve’s willing to die to win. And when it’s over, and Steve is still alive, he can’t be anything but grateful, because Bucky is alive, too. Impossibly, improbably, when the dust clears, there he is. 

Steve is frozen to the spot, unable to do much more than catch his breath as Bucky runs toward him, looking like he hasn’t been gone a day. When Bucky leaps the last couple feet, though, Steve’s body gets with the program in time to catch him and pull him in. They stand there, silent, Bucky wrapped fully around Steve like a koala clinging to a tree trunk, for several long minutes. 

Finally, Bucky loosens his hold on Steve and Steve does the same, letting Bucky slip down to his feet. It’s only then that Steve finds his words again. 

“I thought you were dead,” Steve says, brushing his knuckles down Bucky’s cheek and then tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. Bucky grins back at him, a beautiful sight, something Steve wasn’t convinced he’d ever see again. 

And then Bucky looks down and slides his hand down the side of Steve’s belly, which is obvious and round, even in his new suit. Steve feels his cheeks start to flush. But Bucky looks back up at him a second later, grin turned crooked, a smirk on his face. 

“I thought you were smaller,” Bucky says, voice dripping with affection. It’s a mirror image, not an echo, of the last time he said it, and somehow, it makes Steve shiver. 

“Yeah, well,” he says, lost. He looks down at where Bucky’s hand has come to rest, right in the middle of his gut. “I’ll probably... lose it. Now.” Bucky, to Steve’s surprise, shrugs. 

“I mean, if you want. But I like it. You look good,” Bucky says. He pats Steve’s belly a couple times before removing his hand, and Steve misses it immediately. 

Before he can say anything else, though, they’re interrupted by Thor, coming to request their help setting some things straight in the partially-destroyed wing of the Avengers compound where the fight had begun. It’s not until later, when everyone’s scattered to claim some much-needed rest, that Steve’s able to bring it up again. 

He and Bucky are in the apartment Steve has been staying in for most of the last two years, in the middle of undressing so they can shower and get in bed. Steve’s down to his undershirt, still tucked into his suit pants, when he stops and stands up straight, hands on his hips. 

“Bucky,” he says. Bucky makes a humming sound but doesn’t look up, focused solely on getting all his jacket buttons undone. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” Bucky says, still not looking. 

“That you like… this,” Steve says, moving one hand to his gut. It looks smaller without the thick armor over it, but it’s still considerable. Bucky finally looks up when he realizes that Steve’s not going to say what “this” is out loud. 

“Oh,” Bucky says, getting the last button undone and pulling his jacket off at last. “Yeah, I did. I don’t know, you look good, like I said. Big. Sexy.” He shrugs. “Unless you don’t like it. You’ve spent enough time being unhappy with your body, I wouldn’t ask you to do any more.”

It’s Steve’s turn to shrug. “I don’t know, really. How I feel about it, I mean.” He’d been eating to fill a void, really, and at the time he felt the same way about the weight gain that he felt about everything else, which is to say: nothing. Now that the void is full of something else - of Bucky, here and happy and blessedly alive - he probably won’t need the food anymore. But he did feel pretty great on the battlefield like this, if he’s honest with himself. So. 

“Maybe I just need to wait and see,” he concludes. He realizes then that he’s been unconsciously rubbing his palm over the dome of his belly the whole time. Bucky raises an eyebrow and Steve lets his hand drop back to the side, blushing. 

“Aw, babydoll,” Bucky says, that sugary affection seeping back into his voice. “Don’t be embarrassed. Bet that feels nice, huh?” He walks over, down to just his boxer briefs now, and takes it upon himself to tug the hem of Steve’s shirt out of his pants and push it up. It catches under his arms, and Bucky pulls on it impatiently until Steve raises his arms and allows him to take it off completely. Bucky tosses the shirt to the side and slides his hands down from Steve’s shoulders to his waist, no longer an angled taper but rather a bowed out curve. 

Once the shirt is gone, Bucky starts backing Steve toward the bathroom, taking slow steps and crowding Steve in as he works on the fastenings of Steve’s pants at the same time. He somehow manages to do all this without taking his eyes off Steve’s face. Steve can feel his face heating up under Bucky’s gaze and he knows that blush is gonna make its way down across his chest soon, something that Bucky has always loved. He wonders if Bucky will think it’s even prettier spread over his pudgy pecs. 

They go through the open door of the bathroom just as Bucky gets the last fastening undone and pushes the pants down over Steve’s hips. Steve steps out of them smoothly when they hit the floor, graceful despite his size. 

“What’re we doing, Buck?” Steve asks. Bucky looks at him like he’s stupid.

“We’re showering,” Bucky says, skirting around Steve. Steve turns to watch him lean into the shower to start it. Then Bucky faces him again and lets his eyes roam up and down Steve’s body hungrily. “And I’m gonna show you how I feel about all this.” He waves his hand in Steve’s direction. “In case it helps.”

Steve has to admit, afterward, that it does. The universe is whole, Bucky is here, and Steve is fat, and honestly, he intends for all of that to stick. 


	2. After, and Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky take a road trip, of sorts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My very own Endgame fix-it/alternate ending. Definitely contains spoilers!

Bruce waits until after the funeral to sit them all down and explain. 

“The Stones need to go back,” he says. “If not, we’ve doomed all those new universes to turmoil.”

Steve doesn’t need to be asked; he volunteers. 

He always volunteers. 

“ _ We’ll _ do it,” Bucky says, though, taking Steve’s hand under the table. 

“Buck, you don’t,” Steve starts, but Bucky cuts him off. 

“If you think I’m letting you out of my sight any time in the next five fuckin’ years, at  _ least _ , you’re more different than I realized, Rogers,” he says. It should be harsh but all Steve hears is the softness underneath, the longing, the  _ relief. _ Steve looks into his eyes for a moment and then nods, squeezing Bucky’s hand.

“Okay,” Steve says. Bucky squeezes back, then turns to Bruce, all business. 

“What do we do?”

oOo

Steve and Bucky leave the tesseract for last. It seems fitting, somehow, like closing a circle. First one in, last one out. 

Bucky’s the one who actually puts it back, though. He’s still more skilled at infiltration, and there’s already one Steve Rogers bursting through random doors here, no need to have a second. 

He finds out Peggy’s address, while he’s at it, and, after a stop for some authentic cuisine of the 70s (“Food is so much better in the future,” Steve says), that’s where they head next. 

Bucky waits on the porch, folding himself into the shadows the same way he’s always been able to, while Steve follows Peggy inside. She puts a record on, glancing back every so often, as if she’s afraid that Steve’s not going to be there the next time. He can’t help but take in the living room while he waits: it’s spacious, but warm. There are blankets draped over the backs of the chairs, the couch; the bookshelf is overflowing. And on the mantle, there are photos. Portraits of Peggy and her brother when they were young, a black and white of an older couple that must be the elder Carters. A group shot of the Howling Commandos, probably from one of the newspapers, Steve and Bucky at the center. Next to that, one of a toddler with Peggy’s curls carefully holding a swaddled baby sibling. And then a wedding portrait, Peggy looking radiant in a white dress.

The music comes on, scratchy for a second and then filling the room. It’s a slow song, just like Peggy promised. 

“Come here,” she says, soft, bringing Steve’s full attention back to her. Peggy reaches for him and he goes, settling both hands on her waist. She puts her hands on his shoulders and they sway to the music for several moments before Peggy speaks again. 

“You’ve changed, Steve,” she says. It’s soft, but not—not sad. That’s good. It’s true, and Steve isn’t sad about it, either. Peggy’s hand slips from Steve’s shoulder to touch the top of his belly, just briefly, barely a touch at all. He knows, somehow, that’s not all she means. 

“You, too, Peg,” Steve replies. He reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. That’s true, too. Peggy is twenty-five years older than she was when he last—well. Than she was in the war. Her curls are peppered with grey. There are little wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, lines around her lips. She’s beautiful, she’s always beautiful, but those years, they show. And that’s not all he means, either. 

“Yes, well,” Peggy says. “Time tends to do that, you know.” She pauses, and then adds, “Or maybe you don’t.” Steve can’t help but smile. Instead of responding, though, he pulls her closer, tucking her head into his chest. 

It’s nice, to be here, to hold her. It feels like—like closure. Closure isn’t something Steve knows much about. He’s happy to have finally found out.

There’s nothing but the music again, for a couple of minutes, before Peggy speaks again, without picking her head up. “You’ve got more time than most, don’t you, Steve?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper. 

“I think so,” he says, just as softly. There are tears in his eyes, but the corners of his lips curl up just so. How he’d wanted to spend those years here, with her. But she was right—and when wasn’t Peggy right? She was right. He’d changed. Home wasn’t here, not for Steve. Home was…home was waiting for him, fifty years in the future, standing in the shadows right outside Peggy’s front door. 

“Make it count, darling.” The song ends, the music fades. Steve glances toward the door, then smiles down at Peggy. 

“I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> \- many thanks to [deisderium](https://twitter.com/deisderium) for the quick and helpful beta, and many encouraging comments!  
> \- also thanks to everyone on fandom Twitter who encouraged this!  
> \- please check out [this amazing chunky Steve art](https://twitter.com/bucksomebarnes/status/1115283523428966400) by [bucksomebarnes](https://twitter.com/bucksomebarnes) for a visual aid!!!  
> \- don't forget that I've declared 2019 the Year of Self-Indulgence! NO SHAME, WE SELF-INDULGE LIKE MEN #indulgeyoself2k19  
> \- check me out on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/softestbuck) for, frankly, a bunch of nonsense


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